A generous leather cup filled with sugar and an equally generous sip till the tongue reached the ragged bottom. Hardly-ever washed hair and forehead. They are of the twinned kind. The stomach wouldn't burn otherwise. The mechanical sound of the drill. In this place, it goes one-way, in. Ask about length? They'll tell you it's of no matter. A sound that harsh could never slip out of their daughter's fingers. Four engines fly over the city for a minute, then they move on to the next. The walls are equal and maybe warmer. A stain of lard on the paint from the face. Such presents are not uncommon. When you speak and smile, I can't trust. Disarray in every page. But I've seen things worse than that slipping out of these fingers, I've seen worse. Step on this muddy broken glass: it does remind. Heroic grasps between two acclaimed men. Like a handshake with an empty glove. Passing on the message just as passing on syph. Infected samples of wounds. To remain conserved. To abstain from the movements. Intense speech, same genes. The closer the sicker the offspring will be born. First-timers were unwashed too. Ask about what would apply an ointment of dirt on them? They'll laugh. A layer of punch and spirit so thick and solid could never be applied by hand it could only be spat out. Better than spitting themselves, right.

Even sides, they used to say faces needn't turn to change. Center the eyes and hit both sides with both hands. Faces needn't turn to split since they already are. Spreading from deserted by all radioactive concrete jails to polar glass made ports, a body keen on earning the losses. Night one, execution. Yellow fever lights jaundice paper fur on the arms of the guards. Sweat on guilt the cancerous waves strike and strike as the ill breeze of this soiled water. Kneel and bow deeper. They used to say to be held dictates to boil and resent. Arm the weapon and shoot to the sky. To be held dictates their failure. Name the invisible touch name the phantom touch while staring at one side duplicated in the mirror. Exhale to withstand this eminence in obedience. In places of expectation under thick forecasts surrounded by a million walls they'd breathe out behind my neck and my head would lose every drop of its weight. They smell of what they have they smell of what they are made of undefined worse than what they call worst (decay). Night one nation of executions. Compare to the rest compare me to every microscopic assassin trained in and out sooner or later taught well pull the fingers out of comparison. Their gutter air to the dry daffodils inside your viscera. Lay down alone and every twitch on every face being left behind bangs the silence. Handcuffed on the ground kneel and bow deeper handcuffed on you I kneel and bow I kneel and bow out of rhythm. To be held dictates their loss. This body feeds on losses this body grows with every face being left behind. Lay down with this body and every twitch on every face is devoured noiselessly somewhere near the verging skins. They used to claim ourselves for their own, arm the weapon and give it away. Even sides, a face has no even sides. Center the eyes and hit them both. Slice them back to their primate disunity.